And He Carried Her Through The Storm
by BananaLollypop
Summary: In which Enjolras is the one to find an injured Éponine and refuses to sit by and watch her die. Part 1 in my 'What if... Enjolnine' series. R&R much appreciated!


**AN:** So, this is my first shot at anything Les Mis... it's kind of book-verse but with the movie characters and attitudes... I haven't finished the book yet so I'm not very well acquainted with it, but I've seen the movie three times and I am a little bit obsessed.

I am a die-hard Enjolnine shipper, so this series is called 'What if... Enjolnine' and will consist of a series of one-shots about their relationship. This is the first installment, with the prompt: What if Enjolras was the first one to Éponine after she'd been shot? Both/All characters in this might be a little bit OOC, but who doesn't love a bit of that? Enjoy!

* * *

Enjolras took the flaming torch from Marius, part of him wondering what the hell the stupid sod was doing, and the other part admiring him for what he had done for the cause. He threw the torch in a bucket of water, hearing the sizzle of the dying flame. _Appropriate,_ he thought, _that even fire, capable of so much destruction, is dying because of the cause. _

He followed Marius down the stairs, hearing several people holler to him; it was a definite mixture of love and hate amongst everyone in the barricade towards Marius at that very moment. As Marius' way was blocked by some angry person, Enjolras carried forwards, almost tripping over Éponine, who was lying injured on the floor.

"Éponine?" he questioned. She looked up, surprise etched across her face.

"Enjolras," she acknowledged him, "How do you know my name?"

"Probably the same way you know mine," he said frowning, "I listen. You're well known around here, Éponine."

"As are you," she said. She winced in pain, and Enjolras crouched down beside her, a concerned look on his face.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Éponine smiled slightly; his reputation exceeded him, and therefore she knew how very rare it was for him to show any kind of concern or compassion for anything or anyone except his cause.

"It's nothing," she said, pulling her jacket tighter around her to try and hide her wound. Enjolras' sharp eyes noticed the movement, however, and he pulled her coat back again.

"You're hurt," he says, "You need help!" she shook her head.

"There's nothing to be done now," she took his hand in hers, pulling it away from her coat.

"Whilst you are still breathing, there is _something_ that can be done." Enjolras insisted.

"Then you won't have to wait very long," she said. Even Enjolras could not deny that her voice was weaker.

"You shouldn't be here," Enjolras shakes his head, "You... you shouldn't suffer. Not for this."

"What makes me any different than all of the others here?" she demands, her voice a little stronger with anger, "There is nothing special about me, monsieur. And my suffering will do little to change the course of the cause for which we are fighting." Enjolras chuckled.

"My dear, Éponine," he shooks his head proudly, "You have been listening out for me, haven't you? I'm honoured, truly. But you will not die here."

And with that, he scooped her up into his arms, earning him not only a gasp of pain from Éponine, but a slapped face alongside.

"Is that your way of saying thank you, Athena?" Enjolras asked, smirking.

"Athena?" Éponine frowned at the new nickname.

"The Goddess of wisdom and war," Enjolras said, "Fitting, don't you think?"

"You're very full of yourself, Apollo," Éponine said, "I'm not sure your attitude was what I expected to be faced with in my final moments."

"Well, perhaps it won't be," Enjolras murmured, "For your final moments are a long way of, mademoiselle."

"I suppose there is little point in arguing with you, monsieur?" Éponine asked wearily.

"No point at all," Enjolras agreed. Éponine sighed, but rested her head against Enjolras' shoulder.

"Marius," Enjolras caught his attention as he passed. The student in question had been arguing with Grantaire (a very _drunk_ Grantaire, and so the argument was more than certainly pointless).

"Éponine?!" Marius said worriedly, "What is it, what's wrong?"

Talking over Éponine's feeble attempts to assure Marius she was fine, Enjolras handed out his orders, "I'm taking her to the nearest hospital. You, and Combeferre, wherever he is... do not let this place fall tonight. I'll be back sometime before morning. No one else dies until the cause is achieved, you hear me?"

"Received and understood," Marius nodded.

"Marius," Éponine said quietly, slipping the letter from Cosette out of her pocket. She handed it to him, "It's from Cosette. I kept it from you... I'm sorry." Marius looked down at the note in his hand, before kissing Éponine softly on the forehead.

"Bring her home," he demanded of Enjolras, who shook his head unbelievably.

"What other result would I accept from this?" he asked rhetorically. Marius clasped his shoulder, and the two men shared a knowing look before Enjolras set off.

Enjolras travelled as fast as he dared so as not to cause Éponine any unnecessary pain. More than once she told him that what he was doing was futile, and each time he denied, but allowed her to continue babbling; as long as she was talking, she wasn't dying, and that thought kept him focused on getting her where she needed to be.

About half way there, rain started to fall onto the two of them. Enjolras shifted Éponine in his arms and slipped off his beloved red jacket, draping it over her despite her protests.

It felt like an age, and Éponine was considerably weaker by the end of it, but Enjolras had done it: he had gotten Éponine to a hospital before either of them had lost their lives.

The second he walked into the hospital he was overwhelmed by a swarm of doctors and nurses. Enjolras was about to leave Éponine in their capable hands, knowing that she was in the best place at that moment in time, but she held onto his hand.

"Stay with me?" she begged. Enjolras experienced something he never had before: the inability to say no to someone.

And so he sat by her bedside as the doctors worked, singing softly to her as she drifted in and out of consciousness. He sat with her for hours until, finally, the doctors told him that she was out of danger.

With that news, Enjolras left a sleeping Éponine at the hospital, leaving a message with a nurse that he would return in a day's time. Never before had he believed in his cause more. He finally realised that this is how Marius felt about Cosette: like she was what he was fighting for.

And Enjolras vowed to come out alive, for Éponine's sake. His cause was no longer the only thing that mattered. Now he had Éponine.

* * *

Enjolras returned to the barricade in the early hours of the morning to find everyone gathered outside the cafe soaking wet, the gunpowder nowhere to be seen.

"Enjolras!" Marius exclaimed happily, before noticing Éponine's absence, "Is..."

"She is safe," Enjolras assured him, "And out of danger." Gavroche, who had been listening in a few feet away, sighed with relief.

"You saved my sister," Gavroche said, "I owe you. Big time."

"You stand beside me and my cause, Gavroche," Enjolras almost smiled, a sight very rarely seen by Les Amis de L'ABC, "You owe me nothing. Now, what is going on with this absurd gathering in the middle of the barricade?! What is wrong with inside, out of immediate shooting range?"

"We were protecting the gunpowder from the rain," Marius explained, "We'll get ourselves killed a lot quicker without anything to protect ourselves with."Enjolras nodded his approval.

"Listen, everybody!" he called out, claiming on top of a chair that was just about intact, "No more shall die for this cause. We shall fight for our right to be free. And we shall win. Because we are not only fighting for a better France. We are fighting for ourselves. For our right to live how we like. For our right to _live_. I know many of you generally think I'm a crazy, heartless sod. That I fight against my enemies without so much as a thought to others around me, and if you do think that, then you are most probably right. But my eyes have been opened by something I never expected to change me. And now I do not just fight to make a point, or to cause trouble. I fight to win."

The silence almost echoed down the streets as everyone scared up at Enjolras, gobsmacked by their leader's speech. And then, in unison:

"_Red- the blood of angry men,_

_Black- the dark of ages past."_ Enjolras smiled, properly smiled, and joined in with his fellow fighters: his friends.

"_Red- a world about to dawn,_

_Black- the night that ends at last!_"

* * *

And everyone behind the barricade did exactly as Enjolras said; they did not fight to make a point, or simply for the cause: they fought to win, for themselves and for the people around them. And win they did.

Gavroche and several other Les Amis de L'ABC spread the word of Enjolras' abrupt change of character; he and his apparent heartlessness were well known throughout Paris. And when the people heard of Enjolras' personality change, they rose. The people of Paris fought alongside them, the city united against the forces that fought against them. And they won.

Word reached Éponine by the next evening that the people of the barricades had won and that a new world was dawning. And when Enjolras arrived later that night, she truly believed that the world could not get any better.

The look on his face when he saw that she was awake was enough to turn her happiness into sheer joy. Before either of them even realised what was happening, Éponine has grabbed Enjolras' face with her hands and kissed him. Although slightly surprised at first, it could easily be said that Enjolras was more than pleased with the welcome Éponine had given him.

When they broke apart tears were forming in Éponine's eyes, "When they said that you'd gone back to the barricade... I didn't think that you'd come back. That night, with the rain, and nowhere to keep the gunpowder, I thought you wouldn't have any weapons and you'd all just, just..." she sobbed and a nurse on the other side of the room glared at him for upsetting her patient. Enjolras brushed a tear from her cheek, completely clueless as to what to do in the situation he was in. In a spur of the moment decision, he wrapped his arms around her, careful to avoid her now healing wound, letting her sob into his shoulder.

"Ev-Everyone else," she choked out, "Are, are they..."

"They're all alive, "Enjolras promised her, "Or, they were when I left. Goodness knows what trouble they'll get themselves into, they had sat outside in the rain to keep the gunpowder dry inside when I got back there after bringing you here..." Éponine giggled through her tears.

"Thank you, Enjolras," she whispered into his shoulder, hugging him tighter, "You saved my life and my heart."

"It should be I thanking you, dearest Athena," he smiled, resting his chin on the top of her head, "Without you, I doubt the people of Paris would have risen to fight. You have changed me, Éponine... and because of that, we won."

And with that, the two fell into silence, happy to at last be in each other's company. Happy to at last be at peace in a world that they wanted to live in.

* * *

**I'd love some feedback, so feel free to make my day and drop me a review. Other than that, thank you for reading!**


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